Amy had brought Jenny medical book she had found in the library several times, and though Jenny had already read them, she still acted excited because Amy was her only real friend. Yes, Jenny would be happy to see the friend whom she hadn’t seen for over five years.
Chapter 24
Two and a half weeks later Adam and his girlfriend, Martha Blossom, known as Marti, were on their way to the revolutionary war reenactment. Adam sat behind the steering wheel in his period costume glancing over at Marti from time to time. Marti was in a period costume as well. Adam had commented that she looked like Betsy Ross and asked her if she was planning on sewing their flag while he did battle with the Redcoats. She only smiled at his quip.
Adam was looking forward to being part of the reenactment. After receiving the voluminous information from Arnold, attending two society meetings where he also met with Arnold afterward, and doing additional research on the internet and in the local library, Adam felt he was prepared to play the part of a colonist in the mock battle. He was dressed in tailor-made buckskins that he claimed fit him like a leather glove, and a blue, three-cornered hat that didn’t fit nearly as well as the buckskins. He thought he might lose his hat should the wind come up. He wished it had a chinstrap. His flintlock musket rifle was lying in the back of the minivan. It was a recently made replica though everyone at the meeting to whom he’d shown it expressed the opinion that it really looked authentic. He had been shown how to load the flintlock with and without the musket ball like those that had been used in the war. Naturally, they wouldn’t use musket balls in the reenactment because they didn’t want anyone to be hurt. However, there were to be contests where they had to load and fire the musket using the standard black powder and musket balls.
Marti was also looking forward to the activities because there would be more on the reenactment grounds than just the participants running across the grounds firing musket blanks at each other. There was also to be open-hearth cooking demonstrations, booths selling period clothing, period jewelry, romanticized paintings, as well as a military fashion show showing the various uniforms and other clothing of the time, and an eighteenth-century surgical setup. She hoped to be able to take ideas back to the English classes she taught at Canary Corners high school so she could give them something different about which to write their English research papers.
For Adam, in addition to the reenactment itself, there would also be demonstrations of the loading and firing of a musket, two musket shooting contests—one for the speed of loading and firing and the other for shooting accuracy—and a demonstration of cannon fire using a vintage cannon. Arnold mentioned they’d had a devil of a time getting their hands on an old cannon. A mother of one of the participants had a third cousin that had bought the cannon in an auction as well as a couple of cannon balls. It would be this cannon used in the demonstration. They would have to use modern gunpowder, wadding, ramrods, and fuses. If they could have actually found vintage examples of those items, the items would have been much too valuable historically to be used. Naturally, they wouldn’t fire a cannon ball. The smoke and noise would be enough for the demonstration.
Adam was also looking forward to the day for a totally unrelated reason. At the third and last organizational meeting, he had bumped into an old friend from his days of crime reporting in New York. He hadn’t immediately recognized Phillip Mardoff, but Phillip had apparently recognized him.
“Adam Martin Swope, you son of a sea dog. What are you doing here? I thought you were in Chicago,” Phillip said.
Adam shook his head looking around to see if anyone heard Phillip’s outburst. As far as he could see, no one had. However, several people seemed to be inching closer. Adam didn’t know if coming closer was intentional or merely a consequence of the number of people crowding into the room. “You’re way out of date. I’m now living in Canary Corners. And, please, don’t call me Adam. I’m known as Ram now.”
Phillip gazed at him with furrowed brows. “What’s that all about? Are you still acting as a finder?”
“I could tell you the whole story, but then I’d have to kill you,” Adam said with as serious a face as he could manage. Naturally, Phillip didn’t fall for the old one-liner.
One of the men who’d come closer turned and peered directly at Adam. Adam turned back to Phillip, put his finger to his lips, and said, “Let’s go someplace else and talk.”
“I’d love to because I have something I need to discuss with you, but right now my group is meeting, and I have to go. Maybe we can get together after the meetings.” Phillip hoped to enlist Adam in his search for Molly Drummond’s child because he knew of Adam’s abilities. They had worked on several missing person cases when Adam worked in New York. Phillip was one of the few people in New York Adam had confided in about his abilities. To everyone else Adam was simply good at ferreting out clues that other people might have missed.
Adam glanced at a couple of members of his group he recognized. They were wandering to the room where his group had held their meetings in the past. “Yeah, I guess we’d better go. My guys are gathering as well. What are you?” Adam knew Phillip would understand his obtuse question considering where they were. He was right.
“I’m British, of course,” Phillip said with a tinge of pride in his voice waving a hand to indicate the Redcoat uniform he wore.
Adam thought the pride Phillip felt was unwarranted because the British killed thousands of colonists during the war. He also knew thousands of British soldiers were killed as well, but he felt no pride at the damage his ancestors had inflicted, though, based on his research, he thought he understood why the colonists had revolted. “And you’re proud of that?” He said with mock anger in his voice. He spoke quietly so as not to attract additional attention to himself and Phillip.
Whispering proved ineffectual as the man that had peered at Adam earlier turned to glare at him for several seconds before hurrying off. He followed several other men to a different meeting room than the one Adam would soon be in.
“We can debate all this later,” Phillip said as he followed the British crowd down the hallway.
“Okay,” Adam said. “Catch you later.” Adam turned and walked into the room for his meeting. His statement wasn’t prophetic as he and Phillip were never able to connect after their sessions. Adam had searched for Phillip amongst the men milling around afterward, even venturing into the room where Phillip’s group had gathered. However, even though several members of Phillip’s group were still standing around talking, Phillip wasn’t among them.
Adam sought information on Phillip via the internet during the week before the reenactment but was unable to find a reference. He had no idea what profession Phillip was pursuing in West Virginia and didn’t even know where Phillip had moved. He could be living in any of a hundred small towns within driving distance of the reenactment. Adam also went so far as to contact the precinct where Phillip had worked in New York, but they only knew Phillip had left several years ago. They didn’t know where he had gone because they hadn’t heard from him since he left. Thinking it possible that Phillip moved to another police department, he asked the Canary Corners sheriff, Daniel Stibbens, to check other departments across the state to see if he could locate Phillip. Daniel tried but didn’t have any more luck than had Adam. After that, Adam decided to simply wait for the reenactment to catch up with his friend.
Coming back to the present, Adam smiled as he turned to Marti and said, “I hope it doesn’t rain.”
“And why is that, other than the obvious?”
“The obvious is what I’m worried about. I once had a pair of leather gloves where the seams split when I tried to put them on after they’d gotten wet.”
Marti grinned at his leather clothes. “So you’re worried if it rains…”
“Exactly,” he said leaning forward to glare through the windshield at the dark clouds forming overhead in the direction of the reenactment.
“You can always take the umbrella.�
�� She said. Adam always carried an umbrella in his car.
“I doubt if an umbrella would be considered part of a period costume.”
“Probably not,” she said with a smile while picturing him standing in a downpour with pants split at the seams. “On a different subject, do you really think Larry will show up?”
Adam had given the information about the reenactment to Larry who said he would try to attend, though Adam would believe that only when he actually saw Larry there. “I doubt it. I usually can’t get him out of his office without a crowbar. I do wish he’d come, however. I could use his help on the article, and he can’t do that unless he’s there. I know you said you will give me your impressions and I’ll gladly take them, but, no offense intended, you won’t see the same things Larry might see through his reporter’s eyes. After all, he’s had years of experience that you haven’t had.”
“You couldn’t possibly offend me with a statement like that. I wholeheartedly agree with you. I also hope Larry shows up because I’m sure he will see a whole bunch of things I’ll miss. As you said, he has the experience, not me. Besides, Judy is supposed to come with him.” Adam knew Marti and Larry’s wife Judy had become friends, but they didn’t get the chance to do things together too often, so Marti was looking forward to this opportunity.
Marti turned to the back seat where Bagel was calmly sitting on his haunches staring out the window at the trees as they flashed by. He would occasionally turn his head to watch some real or imagined bird or animal. He even barked softly twice but, though Marti immediately glanced in the direction Bagel was watching, she wasn’t able to see whatever had attracted Bagel’s attention. Adam and Marti brought Bagel along so he could get some air and because they both liked having him with them.
Alex, a reporter at the Tweet, had graciously consented to stay with Butter and her litter while Adam was on his assignment. The puppies were now almost three weeks old, and Adam had plans for each of them after keeping the new family together for the eight weeks Dr. Ridley recommended. Adam would, of course, keep one of the puppies for himself. He had already named it Cream Cheese for the puppy’s creamy light tan fur. Dr. Ridley warned Adam the puppy’s coat would probably develop the standard beagle patches of different colors as he grew, but Adam told her he would stick with the name Cream Cheese regardless. After all, Bagel obviously didn’t look like a bagel.
Adam had allowed Marti to pick out one of the puppies for herself who she had decided, with tongue in cheek, to call Lox. Adam and Marti had agreed to deliver one of the puppies to Adam’s sister, who was living in Maine with her two kids and their Aunt Mary. The last time Adam had talked to Sarah, his sister, she assured him Ryan and Sheila, her kids, were beside themselves with joy at the prospect of having one of Bagel’s offspring. Adam and Marti would deliver the last puppy to Adam’s cousin, Nate, who had initially owned Bagel. Adam wasn’t sure where Nate lived and had yet to contact him about giving him one of the puppies, but he was sure his offer wouldn’t be refused. Adam knew Nate was aware of how special Bagel was because Nate had raised Bagel and knew about some, if not all, of Bagel’s talents that were far beyond what other dogs could do.
Adam had been shown Bagel’s colors game before he even took Bagel from Maine to Canary Corners after his mother died. His mother had been living with Sarah and Bagel had been her dog after Nate passed Bagel on to them. They had taught Bagel the colors game wherein when a color was mentioned, Bagel could fetch a toy of that color from his massive pile of stuffed and rubber toys. Bagel also frequently knocked the Boggle shaker box off the shelf and then pulled out a few of the dice. If Adam made words from the letters Bagel selected, at least one word was invariably a clue to some mystery Adam was trying to solve. Bagel had also given Adam other clues in subtle, and not so subtle, ways. Yes, Bagel had proven he was undoubtedly special.
Because Adam hoped the puppies would inherit some of Bagels abilities, he had been nervous about leaving them so soon after they were born. But, Dr. Ridley had examined Butter and the puppies that morning and said Butter was fully recovered from giving birth and the puppies were all doing fine. In addition, Alex had Dr. Ridley’s number in case something happened, and Dr. Ridley assured Adam she would stay by the phone. Alex also had Adam’s cell number, and Adam could be back in Canary Corners in no more than two hours. Because he hadn’t been to the site of the reenactment yet he wasn’t exactly sure how long the drive was. However, he had mapped the drive from Canary Corners to Bearcave on the internet. Arnold said the site was only a few minutes out of Bearcave, so it had to be less than two hours away from Canary Corners.
Chapter 25
When Adam drove into Bearcave, he saw several signs pointing the way to the reenactment. He had been sent a map which now rested in the map pocket on the driver’s side door. He guessed he wouldn’t need it, but it was nice to have anyway. He didn’t know about the signs leading the way when Arnold sent him the map.
“I guess they don’t want anybody to get lost,” Adam said pointing at one of the signs.
“I’d say that’s a good idea since this is the first time the reenactment is being held,” Marti smiled at him.
“I was given a map, but being able to follow signs is no doubt easier.”
“No doubt.”
Adam again glanced at the ominous clouds overhead and shook his head. “I think we may get wet.”
She glanced up. “You may be right, but I hope it holds off for a while. I’d like to visit at least one or two booths.”
“Of course, you would. I’m here to save the colonies from British tyranny, and your only concern is shopping. Typical woman.”
She frowned at him. “Hardly typical. How many women do you know who would put up with a boyfriend who is frequently in and out of the hospital and constantly putting himself in danger because he can’t keep his nose out of everybody else’s business? I’d say I’m pretty much a saint.”
“Saint Marti. Hmmm, that has a nice ring to it. And I certainly can’t fault your logic.” He knew she was right about his penchant for investigating things that really were none of his business. Larry was always griping about the same thing as Adam frequently blundered into dangerous situations in pursuit of a story to which, many times, he was not even assigned. And Marti was indeed accurate about his being in the hospital a few times since he’d joined the staff of the Tweet. His only defense was that he really couldn’t help himself. He had always been a crime reporter which meant he had to follow his instincts and the clues left behind by the criminals of the world no matter where those clues led—even if that sometimes meant he ended up in harm’s way. That was the price he had to pay for being gifted with special abilities and the determination with which they imbued him. He seriously doubted any other reporter and few people in general—other than some of his relatives—had the same abilities he had. His gifts had led him into and out of trouble more times than he cared to remember. It had even happened several times since he’d moved to Canary Corners. That knowledge was what made Marti nervous every time Adam pursued a story for the crime beat or followed some real or imagined clue strictly on his own—even if Bagel sometimes helped with clues spelled out in the selected Boggle dice.
Adam’s abilities included seeing visions of past, present, and future events. Though he couldn’t predict or control his visions any more than he could at eighteen, they had helped him see justice done many times in the past. He could sometimes cause a vision by touching someone or something, but it wasn’t a sure thing. When Adam was tickled by the hairs on the back of his neck, he knew someone was lying to him. His ears didn’t tingle like his mother’s did when she had detected a lie. He was adept at reading body language, as most reporters were, but being a living lie detector had proven to be even more valuable than body language. These abilities had always made him especially adept at finding his way to the heart of whatever story to which he was assigned. They also helped him solve mysteries where he was the only one who recognized ther
e was something suspicious in seemingly innocuous events.
As Adam neared the reenactment grounds, he noticed the low hanging clouds covering the tops of the mountains obscuring the storm clouds he had been watching earlier. He knew just because he could no longer see the storm clouds didn’t mean a downpour couldn’t happen. The low hanging clouds gave the area an almost spooky atmosphere. As if in answer to this eerie feeling, Adam’s nose began to itch in the way that indicated something was not quite right in their path or destination either in the present or not-too-distant future.
Marti saw Adam scratch and frowned in disappointment and anxiety as she said, “You’re kidding.” She knew his nose usually foretold something unpleasant for someone.
“I certainly hope I am, but, unfortunately, probably not. My nose is seldom wrong.”
“In this case, let’s hope it’s mistaken.”
“I doubt it, but maybe we’re not facing anything ominous. It sometimes isn’t all that bad,” Adam said doing his best to hide what he thought was probably the actual truth as he pulled up behind a horse trailer and stopped, leaving plenty of room for the pickup and trailer to maneuver though the horse had already been taken from the trailer. Marti opened her door, and Adam clicked the automatic door locks to unlock the back door and the rear gate of the minivan. He opened the back door and, after attaching the leash on the seat to Bagel’s collar, he helped Bagel jump down. Adam went to the other side of the car and handed Bagel’s leash to Marti. She accepted the leash and then Adam opened the rear gate and leaned in to take out his flintlock. After he straightened back up, he sniffed the sweet smell that was instantly recognizable to anyone who has ever been to a fair or amusement park. He frowned at a nearby booth. “I don’t think they had funnel cakes in 1778,” he said.
The Dog Who Ate The Flintlock Page 17
